


Might as well Jump

by Das_macht_spass



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Awkward Crush, Bisexual Sakamoto Ryuji, Blow Jobs, Body Worship, Bottom Sakamoto Ryuji, Gay Kitagawa Yusuke, M/M, Porn With Plot, Shameless Smut, Top Kitagawa Yusuke
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-13 11:22:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21493483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Das_macht_spass/pseuds/Das_macht_spass
Summary: Yusuke's definition of beauty is flipped when he attends one of Ryuji's track meets.
Relationships: Kitagawa Yusuke/Sakamoto Ryuji
Comments: 2
Kudos: 146





	Might as well Jump

Yusuke lets out a bored, languid sigh, as he fans his sketchbook towards his sweating face. The sun was out in full force, scorching the entire audience. He doesn’t have a clue why he came here. 

He hears a quiet giggle and turns to the side to see Ann and her raven friend, he thinks her name is Shiho. The black haired girl leans into Ann's ear and whispers something, causing Ann's hand to fly to her mouth and muffle an embarrassed squeal.

"God, Shiho! You're so bad, honey!" Ann's face lights a glowing red, as Shiho sticks a teasing tongue out.

That's right. Ann is the reason Yusuke is sitting here on a burning metallic bench, sweating like a pig. Ann had convinced him to accompany her to this track meet. It was Ryuji's first competition in years, and she thought he could use all the mental support possible. And Yusuke only really came to this event because he felt bad. He was ashamed at how fast his inspiration faded away, and how little he'd been able to accomplish with Ann as his muse. So he wanted to make up for wasting her time.

A heroic synth guitar solo rings out over the stadium speakers, interrupting his brooding. Yusuke can recognize the upbeat riff. It sounds like Van Halen, an old European band that one of the students at the atelier would always play, whenever Madarame was away.

"Yusuke, look! They're about to take starting positions." Ann tugged on his shoulder, pointing towards the field. Yusuke opened his sketchbook, pencil at the ready as the sight of runners may prove a good figure study.

Yusuke drops his pencil at the sight of him. His lamenting and boredom is silenced, replaced by one solitary thought.

_'This is beauty... This is what I've been trying to capture for so long.'_

He could see so much skin. Shy apricot skin that peeked out from underneath the cotton tank top, which was so tight that the defined chest muscles bulged out. Yusuke yearned to reach out and run a finger across them. Light glassy droplets of sweat scattered over the exposed skin, reflecting light and giving off a divine aura. His eyes flew upwards, eager to get a face to match this personification of beauty.

He observes an earned arrogance beaming across the face, the type of arrogance that was well-deserved. Like a gladiator who knew he outmatched his opponents by spades. The confidence of an ancient hero that rivaled the likes of David or Perseus. Yusuke, who didn't think he had ever seen a more breathtaking sight, feels his chest tighten as his eyes land on the bright, sunshine-colored locks of hair. Yusuke's eyes widened in surprise. He squints just to confirm his shock.

_'It's Ryuji.'_

His revelation had not only thrown him a curve ball, but said curve ball smacked him straight in the face. How could Yusuke feel this burning passion, the kind that made him dare to try creating a piece rivaling Sayuri, when he glanced upon the blond?

Yusuke shakes his head in utter shame. _This must be a farce, right?... My artistic vision must be waning._

He held no disdain for the blond. They got along well though. He just never found him particularly interesting. His vulgar and brash nature went against nearly every conventional definition of beauty. 

What Yusuke sees next makes him seriously question that traditional definition. 

Ryuji lets out a cocky laugh as he glances at his teammates. He high fives them before leaning far forward, until his hands rest on the track’s orange turf. The stance juts his rear upwards, and his legs extend from it forming a thirty degree angle. His form emanates so much power, and Yusuke can feel it.

Yusuke finds his mouth drying at the sight. His insides heat up, and he wipes a little sweat off his forehead. Yusuke can hardly believe that this powerful looking physical phenomenon is Ryuji. His aura feels limitless, as if the blond had been working tirelessly, and was finally on his peak. 

His heart swoons as the blond sticks his tongue out a little in determination, eyes zeroing in on the finish line.

_'He personifies the ambitions of humanity. How we strive to work towards our purpose, how we’ll look when we get that far.' _

The sight absorbs Yusuke so much, that he can’t even pull his sketchbook out. He just stares, completely transfixed by the blond.

A gunshot sounds, and the runners explode out of their stances like a galestorm.

Yusuke observes in awe as the blond zooms past his competitors with ease. It's almost as if Ryuji became the wind itself, and god is it a sight to behold. Yusuke had never seen such coordination of the muscles, such physical skill. The discipline and control pulsing off of the sprinting blond is akin to a legendary samurai of ancient past. Suddenly the blond's legs come to a stop, and his face goes from serious composure to boyish excitement.

"Haha! I can't effin believe this... holy crap!" Ryuji bellows as he leaps in the air, fist pumping, to thunderous applause.

"Holy shit, Shiho! That was so fast! I think he broke a record." Ann cheers for her friend, and Shiho hugs her in shared celebration.

Yusuke continues to stare at his friend, who hops up and down in place like a rabbit. He grins, as his teammates lift a giant jug of water and dump it all over him. Ryuji throws his head back with a smile, basking in the cascading waterfall of victory. The other runners give the soaking blond a few pats on the back.

Yusuke stares in shock at Ryuji's dripping and soaking form. His drenched cotton tank top and red athletic shorts cling to his body, doing very little to hide his impressive muscles or attractive physique. He stretches a few times, as if he knew Yusuke was shamelessly ogling him. 

Ryuji turns away from his team, and glances at the cheering audience. His heart swells with happiness as he spots his artistic friend.

"Hey, Inari! Pretty impressive, am I right?!" He smiles a cock toothy grin, before offering him a thumbs up and a wink.

Ryuji's achievements and appearance are something the artist never though possible from him. It makes ripples of bewildering intrigue and desire run through Yusuke. His eyes zero in on what he had once seen as vulgar, loud and brash and Yusuke can't stop the earth shattering realization that comes to mind. 

_'I want it. No I need it.'_

That single thought spins Yusuke's entire world. What on earth was he thinking?! He is an artist, he’s supposed to appreciate and capture beauty on canvas, not lust after it! His pulse quickens and he makes for the stadium exit, clumsy hands shoving spectators to the side, cheeks aflame with consuming embarrassment. Ann shoots him a confused gaze.

"Where are you going? Don't you want to congratulate him? He broke a record!"

Yusuke ignores her. He doesn't want to face his friend like this, with shameful and perverted thoughts bouncing around his head.

He doesn't catch the disappointed face of Ryuji, who sighs sadly as his close friend leaves without acknowledging his achievement.

* * *

When Yusuke gets home that night, he yanks a throw pillow off of his dingy sofa, and wails into it.

He snags an empty sketchbook, and lets his pen glide across the paper, as a manic trance washes over Yusuke. He scribbles sketch after sketch, with such unbridled passion that his pen nearly tears a hole through some of the papers. Soon he's filled two sketchbooks with depictions of the blond. His logical side returns, and Yusuke glances at the clock. He grimaces, as it was one in the morning.

_'Why?! Why can’t I stop thinking about him?!'_

Yusuke can remember having plenty of muses throughout his artistic career, but it had always been a distant appreciation, one where Yusuke could look as an observer and quietly admit the beauty he saw.

With Ryuji the situation is something Yusuke has never been through before. He wants to indulge in him. He wants to reach a hand out and card his sunshine locks, or caress his heroic physique. It goes beyond a simple appreciation for aesthetics.

Yusuke could no longer deny it.

_'I'm utterly and hopelessly enamored with Ryuji...'_

His phone vibrates, and he checks for a text.

**Ryuji:** "You left the stadium kinda distressed lookin. You okay, Inari? Just checkin up."

Yusuke decides to not respond. If he ignored Ryuji long enough his strange lustful feelings should eventually fade away. Then he could exist alongside the blond without jeopardizing their close friendship.

* * *

A few days later, Yusuke decides to visit Leblanc. He hopes the sight of his late mother's masterpiece, the Sayuri, can inspire him. Or at least calm him down long enough to find a solution to his blond problem.

He sighs as he’s greeted by the one person he doesn’t know how to deal with.

Ryuji sits there, wearing his Shujin high uniform- a black suit jacket and a gaudy yellow graphic tee. He didn't bother to do his suspenders, they hang carelessly at his hip.

Yusuke had seen the blond dressed like this before. He thought it made him look like a rough delinquent, someone to avoid. But now that Yusuke had seen him at that stadium, had witnessed the underlying ambition and hidden beauty held within Ryuji, Yusuke can only admire how fitting his style is. The way he wears a prestigious uniform with such disregard for conventional etiquette like buttoning it up or using a white undershirt is brave. Yusuke sees it as Ryuji baring his soul for the world to see. A heroic, rebellious vagabond.

Ryuji, who had been retelling his track victory to Akira, turns and grins at the sight of his friend. He takes a quick swig of his grape soda, before waving with quick excited enthusiasm. 

“Hey, Inari! Wanna go to the arcade? You can people watch.” 

Ryuji quirks an eyebrow, as he spots his friend still standing there in awkward silence. The artist's eyes widen as he realizes just how long he'd been staring at him, and a light red dusts his face.

“I apologize, Ryuji. I’ve got...,” Yusuke’s voice falters. He had never been good at lying on the spot. “ a drawing assignment due tomorrow.”

"Oh, Ok" Ryuji mutters as his brown optimistic eyes lose a little spirit. "It's kinda been a while since we've hung, hasn't it?"

Yusuke just stays silent, embarrassed at his racing thoughts.

"'There's a movie marathon runnin' tomorrow. Got some Western classics too, maybe we could go, Inari?" His enthusiastic tone returns, and the gleaming smile makes the artist feel guilty, because he's not brave enough to hang out with a friend anymore.

"I... I'm sorry Ryuji. I have a portfolio meeting, and many pieces to go over. My schedule's booked I'm afraid." Yusuke's heart pangs at how fast Ryuji's smile disappears. He was lying, because he was embarrassed at his confusing desire. 

"My bad. I'm gonna go guys. See'ya." He waves a hand up as plops himself out of his seat before trudging through the door.

A few awkward moments of silence pass as Akira continues to work a rag through the ports of the coffee machine. Yusuke just sits there feeling sorry for himself.

“So, wanna tell me why you were staring at Ryuji like that?” Akira whistles a jovial tone, as he starts up the dish washer. "Is he your new muse or something?"

Yusuke shrinks back, closing one eye subconsciously. An obvious tell he had picked up from Madarame.

Seeing his composed artist friend all shy and timid makes a smirk stretch its way across Akira's face. Dangerous, sly and predator-like. The kind of expression Joker gave in the Metaverse.

_'I don't like that smile. Not one bit.' _Of course Akira would find him out as soon as he saw him, that really seems to be Yusuke’s luck lately. 

"You've got a crush on him, don't you?"

Yusuke just grabs his water, taking a long extended swig of it. He really hopes Akira would just drop the subject.

“Wow that’s cute.” Akira waggles his eyebrows. ”I guess opposites really do attract!”

Hearing it from someone else is like a punch to the gut. Yusuke has to deny it, he has no other choice.

"I don't know where that utter rubbish of an idea came from." He scoffs, shaking his head in disdain. “I merely think he could be a fitting model for my next assignment!” Yusuke recognizes how fast he sped through that excuse, and he is certain Akira knows now.

"Well when me and Ann were your muses, you were never like this." Akira offers, his voice soothing and calming to Yusuke. "You never got insecure or nervous... You just talked about our radiant beauty and all that."

_'Akira is far too clever for his own good.' Yusuke sighs, realizing there's no point in hiding things any further._

“I mean the day you met her, you walked right up to Ann and asked her to model for you.” Akira chuckles in fond remembering, polishing cups. “But apparently, Ryuji makes you shy.”

Yusuke slams his fist into the table, knocking some of his iced coffee out. "Yes I have a crush, so bad it hurts."

Akira smiles at the honesty. His voices go sympathetic, wanting to comfort his distressed friend. "Look it's really not that bad. Why not tell him?"

“No, no, no, no!” Yusuke’s eyes widen at the risky idea, and he sputters out excuse after excuse. “Ryuji is a nice person, but he surely doesn’t swing that way.”

Yusuke thinks back to the all the times they hung out. Ryuji had always been pretty open about his thoughts on women, never shy to point out ones he found particularly attractive. He often openly hit on them, only to be turned down each time much to Yusuke's amusement. 

"So?" Akira huffs out incredulously. He gives a hapless shrug. "Listen, Yusuke, what happens if Ryuji doesn't find you attractive?"

Yusuke seems to be fascinated with the Sayuri, because he refuses to turn his eyes from it.

"You're scared of ruining your friendship? You think he'd be disgusted if he knew?"

Yusuke sits there, staring bashfully at his mother's painting. He gives a quick affirming nod.

"I think you should tell him."

"I'm positive with enough time, this crush will fade." He slings his satchel over his shoulder, before making a bee line for the exit, cheeks aflame. "Goodbye, Akira."

Akira smiles like a fox as he spots Yusuke's phone lying forgotten on the counter. He decides to do his friend a favor, and so he sends a message to Ryuji. 

**Yusuke:** "Ryuji, would you be willing to assist me in a figure study tomorrow? I would appreciate it greatly."

He is about to set the phone down, when a text comes in just a few seconds later.

**Ryuji:** "Sure, man! Any time, any place."

Akira smirks. He knows Yusuke will thank him later.

* * *

Yusuke wakes with a grimace, he looks at the clock, the fact that he slept until noon hits him. The night before he spent another several restless hours filling more sketchbooks with the vulgar blond, in a vain attempt to suppress his unwanted attraction. He sighs, getting dressed with slow sluggish motions. As soon as he's finished getting ready, a loud knock on the door sounds.

His new unaware muse is there to greet him. Yusuke can already feel his alabaster skin going a soft pink at the surprise of seeing his crush.

Tokyo is in the midst of a heat wave. So unfortunately for Yusuke's composure, Ryuji had picked out fitting clothing that day. His bright, yellow tank top is just tight enough to allow a faint outline of his impressive abs to peek through. To make matters worse, the neckline is unfairly deep. It goes past the blond's armpits, and Yusuke gets to take in the taunting tops of Ryuji's pecs. Without sleeves, the stunning, thick arms demand the artist's attention and Yusuke can't stop himself from envisioning a warm hug or embrace with them. He bites his lip, somehow managing to hold back the groan of pure want that shouts for release. 

The artist doesn't think to look away, and he glances down at Ryuji's lower half. That proves a dangerous mistake, as the sight makes Yusuke stiffen. Loose, grey cotton shorts adorned Ryuji's proportionate legs. They're cuffed at the bottom, and Ryuji's calf muscles are exposed, open to the artist's shameful prying eyes. They tease him, gorgeous and glistening with sweat.

Scattered throughout his attire are accessories that are uniquely Ryuji. A spiked, gleaming silver belt looped through his waist. Its massive silver belt buckle juts out, and Yusuke's awe-struck mind thinks it goes well with the athlete's massive, heroic bravado. His running shoes are a sky-blue, accented with a cloudy white. It makes Yusuke think of the blond's ambition and potential, limitless like the heavens. 

_'I want him. Want to capture his glorious beauty in a painting, and I must experience life with him as a partner.'_

"Ummm, you okay?" The gruff voice wonders, knocking Yusuke out of his trance.

Yusuke cries internally, throwing a hand into his hair, and tugging in frustration. 

_'This is so embarrassing! It's out of control!'_ Yusuke thinks in a panic, as he averts his gaze in a shy manner.

"Hey Inari, did you get my text, man?" Ryuji asks, gently pressing. Yusuke shakes his head, utterly stupefied. He's about to explain his missing phone, when Ryuji continues without missing a beat. "Dude. You're kinda feverish lookin', you sick or somethin?"

Yusuke shakes his head, and mutters a question. "What are you doing here?"

"Huh?" Ryuji furrows his eyebrows and rubs his chin in confusion. 

"I'm sorry dude, but you were askin' me to model for a piece, right?"

Sudden realization dawns on Yusuke. He left the phone at Leblanc last night. Someone posed as him and sent a modeling request to his crush. Akira wanted him to confess his feelings.

Yusuke feels his left eye twitch. He clenches his teeth, and stomps his foot.

_'Akira, you little devil!'_ Yusuke swears revenge, but for now he has a bigger problem to deal with. Ryuji is here, expecting a drawing session. 

"Y-yes. If you would please."

"Okay, man I'm ready!" Ryuji tugs off his tank top with a quick motion, and tosses it to the ground.

Yusuke blinks once, then twice.

His train of thought isn't just derailed, it flew off the tracks and caused a massive accident. Yusuke's face turns crimson as he stares at Ryuji's bare torso. Even Yusuke hadn't thought the sight of his crush could be so enamoring.

A few minutes past, and Yusuke's staring stops as he notices the scowl on Ryuji's face.

"Ok, I've had enough of this!" Yusuke jolts at the enraged shout. Ryuji had finally reached his tipping point. He leers at the artist, before grinding his teeth and spitting out an annoyed rant. "What's been wrong with you lately?"

"Please, I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about!" Yusuke offers, as he waves his hands in a placating gesture. "Just, calm down Ryuji!"

"Can it, Inari! You do know." The hiss trails off near the end, becoming a weak whimper that tears Yusuke's heart to pieces. "Why? Why have you been ignorin' and ghostin' me? I miss hangin' out with you, makin' fun of weirdos while people-watchin', and playin' at the arcade." Ryuji's lips puff out, and his eyebrows meet, forming a distressed, confused frown. Yusuke sighs, seeing his crush like this was painful. "What did I do wrong?"

Yusuke's hands tighten, and guilt flows through his being. He made Ryuji like this. He ignored him, and hurt him.

"I just want my friend, back..." Ryuji is on the verge of bursting into tears, his body twitches, and he's biting his lips.

_'I was such an idiot! I need to fix this. I'll have to bare my soul.'_

Yusuke takes a deep breath, and lets his thoughts out with control and pride. "Ryuji, listen and look at me." He pauses, waiting for the blond to give his attention. "You have done nothing wrong. It was all my fault. A few days ago at that track meet I saw you," Ryuji tilts his bewildered head, not sure were Yusuke is headed with this. "I saw you become the embodiment of the wind, ambitious, disciplined, and powerful." Ryuji's mind reels at the vivid, praise. He tries to interrupt for clarification but Yusuke gestures for him to keep silent. "Just like the wind you were beautiful. I have never had the pleasure of seeing something as stunning as you were that day. I... I am enamored with you. You consume my every waking moment, and I am sorry for my lust." The artist pants, tired from confessing. His eyes point towards the floor, having lost the nerve to look at Ryuji. 

Ryuji just sits there, apricot skin overtaken by a hue rivaling a Fuji apple. Drops of sweat drip down his shocked face and onto his exposed chest. His mouth is agape, and his eyes seem close to pooling over with tears. He stutters, but can't manage to form a coherent sentence. 

"Look at you, you are disgusted by me." Yusuke begins to weep, voice cracking amidst apologies. He tore his closest friendship apart, drove his friend away. All because he couldn't keep some primal, base desire at bay. He goes quiet, ridden with panic and sadness. "I am sorry for my shameless depravity, I'll take any effort to ensure our relationship remains professional, I can avoid you apart from the Metaverse-"

"Yusuke, you big effin' idiot!" Ryuji's shocked expression gives way to one of ecstatic happiness. "I'm cryin' tears of joy, not sadness!"

"B-but you always hit on women. Quite shamelessly in fact." Yusuke swallows with a raised eyebrow. He had never seen the blond show even a passing interest in any man before. "I thought you were heterosexual."

"Heh, I don't like limitin' myself. I'm kinda like you in that way, what's pretty is pretty." He rubs his face against Yusuke's shoulder, letting out happy, content mewls. "And I've never seen anyone, boy or girl, as pretty as you. That lithe build, and your entire demeanor... It's effin' gorgeous, Inari!"

Yusuke can do nothing but tremble. This maddening, helpless love is mutual. His shoulder's practically vibrate and a deep, bellowing laugh escapes him. "This is wonderful! I can't fathom how I deserve such radiant beauty!" 

"Aww, c’mon man. There you go again, talkin’ about me like I’m some kind of dreamboat!” Ryuji frets and beams a nervous grin, scratching the back of his head. “I honestly don’t know how you can say that with a straight face. I don’t think I’m that attractive!” 

Yusuke’s gaze hardens, and Ryuji’s grin fades at the steely, intimidating look. “You don’t think you’re beautiful?” He asks, raising a shocked eyebrow.

“Nah. I’m just average. There’s nothin’ wrong- woah!”

He’s interrupted by Yusuke’s hand gently nudging him by the chin. Ryuji's unsure topaz gaze meets one of passionate sapphire.

“Such ignorance of one’s true beauty is inexcusable.” Yusuke deepens his rich baritone, making the tips of Ryuji’s ears burn. He breathes warm and teasing over them. “Allow me to convince you otherwise, my muse.”

Ryuji whimpers at Yusuke's unexpected dominating aura. All he can do is give in, and be docile.

The artist starts slow, scattering fleeting kisses across his muse’s broad shoulders. He drags a hand across the robust chest, pausing every so often to knead or massage at tight knots, turning the runner into a mewling puddle of want.

Ryuji's breath hitches, and light airy moans slip past him. “Holy shit, Inari. Your hands feel so amazin’.” He squeezes his eyes shut, and Yusuke watches his torso shudder from the sensation.

“You say you’re not beautiful, yet your torso alone turns me into a wanting beast.” He rubs softly at the pinkish, hard nipples, and Ryuji lets out a whine. Yusuke yearns for him to understand just how beautiful he is. “Your physique is akin to Hercules.” He declares, meaning every bit of it.

Ryuji cracks an eye open, still sighing from pleasure. “Who?”

Yusuke smiles amused at his muse's ignorance. He reaches upwards to caress the sunshine locks with a tender hand. He nuzzles Ryuji's shoulder a little bit, before hovering his mouth over an ear.

“Let’s just say he was a legendary hero of unmatched strength.” Yusuke speaks with a mix of earnest and allure, wanting to unravel the athlete. "So beautiful the Gods immortalized him as a constellation. You deserve the same treatment."

Ryuji's eyes glow with want and his entire body shivers, becoming a flushing, humiliated mess. "Damn, Inari! That's embarrassin'. You don't have to flatter me..." The artist makes him feel so cherished, so valuable. 

"It is not flattery, it is simply the truth, my dear Ryuji." Yusuke beams, tugging impatiently at his muse's silver belt. The only thing preventing him from seeing unbridled beauty. "May I continue?"

"Jeez, you don't even have to ask. Keep goin', please!"

Yusuke throws the belt aside, and lets gravity bring the gray shorts down. Tight, purple spandex briefs greet him. They cling to Ryuji's wide crotch and Yusuke wastes no time putting his hands to work. He strectches the tight elastic band out on each side, and pulls the briefs down, he has to tug a little harder to get them past Ryuji's rather large bulge. Yusuke licks his lips in anticipation, eager to finally see his muse's natural form. The briefs fall to Ryuji's ankles, and his hard cock springs out, already throbbing a little. Ryuji hisses at the feeling of cold air hitting it. 

Yusuke's vision flies to the cock, utterly enthralled. It is almost imposing how long and thick it is, and to the artist's flowery, poetic mind it reflects Ryuji's boundless unyielding power. Yusuke yearns to make it yield to overwhelming bliss. He stares at it for a few seconds, merely appreciating the pleasing aesthetic of it- its long ample girth, and its rose tinted peach hue.

Ryuji, who had finally calmed down a bit from all the ego stroking, spots Yusuke's expression. One of nervous, unsure trepidation.

"It's okay, if we're goin' too fast, Inari-NGGH!" Ryuji throws his head back, as Yusuke flicks his wrist up and down the length, twisting near the head each time to drive the blond up the wall.

With his other hand, Yusuke kneads rough circles into the backsides of Ryuji's thighs, forcing moans from the blond. "It truly is stunning." Yusuke bends over to lap at the head a little, which makes Ryuji go pliant. "How every single part of your body makes me thirst."

"Your legs, so proportionate and glistening. Able to carry the heavy burden of your sinewy build, and fulfill your potential." Yusuke plants a couple kisses along the back of his thigh, working his muse up.

He moves upwards, turning his attention to the torso. "Your chest, strong and broad. It makes me want to indulge even more, until we are both mindless, satiated beings." He sucks on the nipples, before nipping at each one lightly. Ryuji slaps a hand over his mouth, but a hungry grunt still escapes.

"Or your cock. Proud and honest. A way to drive you as mad with lust, as you do me." Yusuke gives a few controlled pumps with his hand, and Ryuji thrusts into them, shivering in anticipation. "May I, Ryuji? May I suck you off?"

That idea alone makes the blond's cock twitch. He doesn't even try to hold back his excitement. "Fuck yes Inari! Please!"

Yusuke gets onto his knees, and licks long, teasing strips alongside the cock, making Ryuji moan rather loudly. That just encourages Yusuke, who starts to bob his head up and down, licking all over Ryuji’s cock. As he goes up, he pauses, swirling a mischievous tongue around the head. He smirks around the cock, feeling it twitch a few times desperately, and hearing his muse cry out without shame. Yusuke finds it empowering how he could reduce Ryuji, the person whose appearance and personality had been able to shatter his composure, into a mindless, mewling mess. 

"Oh my god! Your mouth is effin' killin' me!"

Yusuke lets out a muffled giggle, basking in the sensation of overpowering him. He pushes down as deep as he can, almost reaching the base of Ryuji's cock. It rubs against the sides of his mouth and Yusuke keens at the warmth and fullness. He just sits there for a second, no sucking, no licking, just enjoying the sore ache that runs through his drooling mouth.

Ryuji is about to beg for Yusuke to keep going, but the artist beats him to it. He sucks quickly, hollowing his cheeks out and gripping both of Ryuji's rigid, stout hips for leverage. Ryuji starts to let out rapid cries, stuttering over and over again like a machine gun. Yusuke can tell his muse was about to finish, so he pops off of the cock with a sly snicker. 

Yusuke relishes at the sight of the powerful blond thrusting in desperation, and sobbing weakly. "Inari... Why?! I was so close!!"

"Now, now Ryuji. Before I let you release, you need to realize something important."

Ryuji starts panting now, turning a hungry gaze towards the artist. He actually clenches his fists in frustration, and Yusuke finds that adorable. "What?" He huffs out.

Yusuke's eyes soften."Tell me how beautiful I think you are." He motions with his hand.

Ryuji's entire face goes up in red. Despite his brash vulgarity, Ryuji had always struggled with low self-esteem. And here was Yusuke, a gorgeous groomed painter, ordering him to recall his hidden beauty. He takes a deep breath, and tries to make his lust-addled mind form a coherent description.

"You think I'm as beautiful as...," Ryuji loses his train of thought as Yusuke decides to blow hot and teasing over his weeping cock. The damn tease. "NNGH- a supermodel!"

Yusuke chuckles, a suave sinful laugh that goes straight to Ryuji's cock. "That doesn't sound too convincing. Try to sound like me, elegant and artistic." Yusuke advises, clearly taking sadistic enjoyment in teasing his muse. 

"You think my beauty rivals the Gods! That I should be a constellation among the stars!" Ryuji recognizes a warm fuzziness in his heart, and he strokes a few fingers through Yusuke's luscious azure hair before finishing his thought. "You find me so beautiful, that you're willin’ to give yourself to me, make me feel like I'm soarin' above the earth!" His voice gives in near the end, teetering off into a faded groan.

"Well spoken, my beautiful muse."

"God, Inari. I never knew how gorgeous I was until you told me to-mmmmphh! Ryuji threw a hand into his mouth, muffling a wail, as Yusuke had latched right back onto Ryuji's cock without warning. "You're such a damn tease!" He hisses through clenched teeth.

Yusuke sets to work, intent on finally bringing his inspiration to a satisfying, powerful climax. He moans, as he forces his mouth as far as it can go, this time he would end it. So he bobs his head as fast as possible, licking with varying motions. Sometimes his tongue moves slowly, pressing firmly against Ryuji's cock, and making the blond release long, extended moans. Sometimes he laps teasingly, and Ryuji has to let out a series of embarrassing, airy yelps. 

He looks to his lover, wanting to see him unraveled as well. The sight of Yusuke amplifies the already mind-blowing sensations coursing through Ryuji. Wetness dripped around Yusuke's puffy lips, stretched out widely around Ryuji's cock. A shaky arm was stuck underneath his black pants, stroking desperately. His sapphire-like eyes had been consumed by a powerful lust, glimmering with want. They truly were fated partners, both yearning for a physical expression of their attraction towards the other. Topaz eyes meet sapphire eyes one last time, and that is the beginning of the end.

Ryuji groans one last time, weak and raspy. His back arches and his fingers twitch, as his cock erupts inside the moist, enclosed mouth sending his long release down the artist's shocked throat. Yusuke trembles at the feeling of warm seed coating his mouth. He whines, and does his best to swallow it all with a pathetic whimper. The combined bliss of his own stroking hand, and the knowledge that he made Ryuji come, forces him past his breaking point. He releases, cock spurting all over the floor, some splashing against his muse's chest.

They collapse against one another, and neither can manage words or thoughts as both surrender to the earth-shattering afterglow. They lie on Yusuke's cozy dorm couch, mewling and giggling with zoned-out expressions on their faces. They reflexively caress one another. Eventually their sense of logic fully returns, and the two let out enamored praise and expressions of awe, neither really believing what just transpired. 

"Holy shit, Inari that was effin' amazin'!" Ryuji beams, voice still a little weak from moaning and gasping.

"Yes, indeed. I have never felt such pleasure in my entire life." Yusuke smiles, stretching languidly and yawning with a tired, sated look in his eyes.

A couple tears drop down Ryuji's eyes, and his gut tightens. "I wanted to thank you, Inari. My entire life, people looked at me like some vulgar, stupid thug. But then you came in with your flowery language and your genuine praise and... god, it's too much to take!" He cries, thinking back to all the hardships he had endured: Kamoshida, and his father.

"There, there. You are deserving of every ounce of love you receive and more." Yusuke rubs circles in between Ryuji's shoulder blades, trying not to scoff at the injustice of Ryuji's past.

"I know that now." He looks into Yusuke's gaze, and lets a wide smile beam across his face. "Thanks to you.'

Yusuke's heart fills with joy. "Well, I'm glad I could serve as that wake-up call." Yusuke's eyes harden. "It was a tragedy, that you went through life for so long not knowing your true worth."

"I'm so happy right now, Inari"

"I as well, my muse."

They nest into the couch, their combined weight making the couch droop inwards, their limbs entangling with one another. A big heap of happy, exhausted and satisfied bodies. They just lie there, basking in each other's warmth and beauty. Eventually they fall asleep on those cushions, ready to begin their new relationship as muse and artist.


End file.
